


Mental Obstacle

by Ni_Ichi_Shichi



Category: Splatoon
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25149490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ni_Ichi_Shichi/pseuds/Ni_Ichi_Shichi
Summary: Agent 3 offers Agent 8 a hug.
Relationships: Agent 3/Agent 8 (Splatoon)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	Mental Obstacle

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 'deleted scene' from my other story (INKALINE). It was originally written to go at the very beginning but it can be read as a standalone thing if you prefer.

"G'nite Eight."

"Goodnight, Agent Three."

It was later than usual for the lights to finally click off in Agent 3's small apartment. Neither of the pair lying parallel in said squid's old rickety three-quarter bed could ever recall being awake in unison this late in an evening. What began as a night of casual video gaming between friends had unexpectedly turned quite competitive, evolving from simple fun point competing on each subsequent controller pass to the unhappy ending of the two Agents desperately trying to outdo the other in every gameplay aspect imaginable.

This type of attitude was nothing short of normal for the older Agent in the room. His tendency to do the exact same in the real world upon every opportunity possible made it pretty predictable for anyone who knew him for just a few minutes alone; this minuscule requirement often being eradicated entirely through simple word of mouth. Some would even call it his standout defining feature. When you hear Agent 3, it's possible to think lazy... but never underperforming.

And to nobody’s surprise, expecting that same distinctive cocky attitude from the quiet and often fully submissive octoling currently lying beside him could rightfully be called borderline insane.

But even so, while not remotely on the same kind of scale... it had indeed happened.

Three wouldn't have called it truly 'unexpected' to witness at first. Neither Eight's determination to impress him, his natural talent in coordination skills nor how much effort he genuinely gave in the goal at hand was anything he couldn't have imagined beforehand. The sheer length Agent 8 persisted in going to just to prove himself in being worth something, however, did turn out to be rather shocking to him.

Three'd shocked himself during the whole ordeal as well, as it eventually turned out to be HIM who'd concluded their gaming session to begin thinking about sleeping. Any other time that would have been the opposite way around. The time duration hadn't bothered him - so what if it was hours later than usual? It was the weekend tomorrow anyway, with no Squidbeak duties planned for either of them. If anything he'd do a couple Salmon Run rounds and lounge around for the rest of the day. Who'd care?

But with Eight having become visibly angry (an otherwise incredibly rare sight) alongside showing attempts on hiding his upsetness over any occasional microscopic failure, Three'd soon found it in himself to have them both quit. That wasn't the point of playing games together.

It was only one of those stupid original human-designed RNG-based games anyway.

The atmosphere had been a little awkward as they'd both gotten into Agent 3's bed. The whole concept of sharing the bed wasn't too foreign anymore, with Three having made the suggestion a few weeks back and having managed to get Eight to go through with it a few days shortly after. He'd made himself very clear that he would fully respect Eight's feelings towards physical contact and NEVER come close to his body without first requesting to do so - even vowing it as a promise. It had worked fantastic in keeping his favourite Agent calm whilst helping keep their bond mutually strong.

But their recent unplanned experience had left the two feeling a little nervous towards the other. It was enough to presently make Three forget that tomorrow would mark one month since they had first met each other. He was meant to tell Eight that earlier.

Moreover, though; it'd also made Three temporarily forget to voice what he usually asked the octoling every night. It would only be a few seconds late but he didn't doubt his friend would pick up on it.

"...Would you like to try-"

"No! ...N-no thank you, Agent Three."

Instantly after having answered so clumsily Agent 8 fully expected to be forced to talk further. His built anticipation not coinciding with the usual timing of the familiar question had caused his heightened reply, and he'd yet to get away once with vocalising a messy sentence without being questioned on if he was alright.

But, unusually so, the follow-up return question never came this time.

Three had stopped himself from automatically asking what was wrong. He already knew Eight would tell him 'nothing' and wasn't going to fall into that trap tonight. It was nothing silly like holding a grudge over some video game nonsense, that mini fight had completely faded from his mind already. He just didn't feel like doing this whole charade this evening. ...Or was it early morning by now?

"Okay."

Eight didn't like that answer. He didn't like it at all. In fact, that one simple word as a reply managed to make him feel ten times more uneasy than before. He couldn't even say why - which was strange considering 'okay' was the usual word he got back each time.

After a length of time passed without a sound between them both, Agent 3 rolled himself onto his side slightly in the opposite direction to him. He didn't say anything further, let out a sigh, or even make a difference in his breathing. Nothing.

Yet it intensified things all the more for the young Agent. It gave him the desire to apologize.

"Sorry."

There was a small pause before Three spoke back.

"...What for?"

There was another pause, this time from Eight.

"I am not sure. It's... I don't know. Have I saddened you?"

The pausing continued.

"No, Eight. ...Have I upset you?"

...

"No, Agent 3. You have not."

. . .

"That's good, then. But what about earl-"

"But I always say no."

Having interrupted and spoken with a slightly different dialect than normal, Three rolled himself in the opposite direction to look directly at Eight instead. Though it wasn't like he could make out much in such a dark room.

"What do you mean?"

Quiet sniffing became audible to his pointed ears, officially indicating the other's rising sadness which his vision was currently incapable of also performing.

"I never tell you yes."

It wasn't hard to work out what the octoling was referring to.

"It's fine, Eight. You don't have to tell m-"

"No it is not."

Agent 8's voice had risen a little in his second interruption. Agent 3 opted to not resume speaking.

"It is not fine. You are always offering and I am never taking."

"No no no, Eight." Three spoke back in much of the same way, shifting higher to sit upright as he paid further attention to this developing conversation. "I'm glad you are honest with me and say what you really feel. I only want you to say yes when you are fully comfortable. IF you ever are. It is okay to say no, Eight. For however long you want. It's fine."

Agent 3 thought he'd handled that quite maturely, his reply's effectiveness aided by his own successful guess over what Eight was having a problem with moments ago. Those extra few seconds he occasionally bought for himself always helped in constructing greater supportive sentences.

But what he heard back created great difficulty in doing it successfully again.

"...But I am comfortable, Agent Three. With you."

This response generated many thoughts in his mind. Mostly of confusion.

"I... trust you much, Three. I know... you will not bring harm on me. But..."

Three kept silent. This time he didn't know where Eight was going.

"...I am still scared."

...

"...Of me?"

. . .

The moment the delay in his friend's response hit him he'd already chosen an answer for himself.

This wasn't a good situation. What was it about him that was causing that? Had Eight been feeling this way around him every time he was nearby?

No, this news really wasn't good at all. Was it how competitive he gets? His confident and semi-extroverted personality? ...Earlier with the game?

...The colour of the scar on his eye, endlessly reminding Eight of what he'd previously done...?

...

Maybe he should talk to Marina about rehoming Eight tomorrow. Or go back to the couch, right now, so he wouldn't be so scared. Or even, maybe... start thinking about lea-

"No. I am still scared of... touch."

Oh!

Well then.

He was just searching for the right word.

"Oh... phew. Man, Eight. I honestly thought you were about to say yes there."

If there was a single thread of light bouncing through the room, Agent 3 would have seen the most shocked expression in his life.

"What? No! I already said I trust Agent Three!"

"...Do you really, though?"

That took Agent 8 by surprise. Now it was him who thrown into the position of being unsure on what the other meant.

"How much do you trust me?"

How could he answer that?

"Umm..."

"Do you trust me enough to believe I would always protect you?"

Like when he'd allowed him to stay with him here, reassuring that he could always count on him no matter what?

"Ahh... yes...?"

"In every situation? As much as I could?"

Like how frequently he routinely checked up on him everyday, refusing to shift focus unless he knew for certain Eight felt safe?

"...Yes, Three."

"What about if it put me in danger. Do you think it'd stop me?"

...The blender...?

"No. I don't."

"...That's funny, then."

This conversation wasn't making any sense to Agent 8. What did any of this have to do with the act of physical contact between one another?

"I don't - what it is, Three? What is the purpose of touch? Making trust?"

Agent 3 thought over his response. The definition of something he’d been offering for weeks - this was not a reply he could afford to screw up. Once happy with his line of mental sentences, he talked with his voice holding a softer pitch than before.

"It's... nice, Eight. It feels nice for both people. Inklings only really do it when they trust each other a lot. It's a good feeling, being held and knowing the person doing it truly likes you. It helps... make people happy, you know? It lets them know you really care."

"But I already know it, Three. I know you have care, I know you make me happy already."

The older squid smirked a little, diverting his eyes from Eight even though it was still too dark to see each other. That was nice to hear, but...

"...Not nearly happy enough."

\- - - - -

"S... sss-"

"Okay."

Within a second, Agent 3's arms were retracted and Eight was fully free from his touch once more.

It hadn't been much of a first 'hug' really. Three'd only just placed his left hand around to the octoling's back before witnessing his younger body instinctively attempting to rebel against the sensation. It really was a kind of mechanical, inhumane core response that he was sure Eight wasn't doing purposefully but that didn't lesson it's impact in shocking him. This certainly explained why his offer was always politely declined. He realized now why simple touching was such a giant hurdle to him.

The way Eight's body fought back was with such strength too, as if he was in imminent danger and had to escape no matter what. Obviously there was nothing dangerous in this scenario, but that kind of automatic response really did make Three think. It was so abnormal. Just WHAT had Agent 8 gone through down in the metro? How many times was he on the brink of being rendered immobile? Did he ever get a single break where standing still wouldn't result in him...?

"Ah... no, Three."

Whoops, that's right. There wasn't the luxury of time to think right now.

"Sorry?"

"No, Three. I didn't say stop."

"Oh - oh, I'm sorry. It just surprised me that's all, I was just worried-"

"Agent Three?"

...?

Agent 8 had placed one hand on the squid's chest as he'd intervened without warning, and spoke in a hushed, shy voice as he'd called his full name.

"...Yeah, Eight?"

"I-I trust you very much, okay? I trust you very much. I want - I want you to do it here, now. I want you to do it full. Even if I say things, or do things... I am trusting you, now, to do it good how you like. Okay?"

It was almost enough to make the hardened Agent cry.

"I am ready to hug, Three."

But he kept his composure. And elected to not study those words further right now.

"Okay then, Eight. As long as you're sure. I'm ready too, so feel free to lean down whenever you want."

The feeling and sounds of closer breaths was the only cue the veteran Agent needed. Taking a second light hold over Agent 8's back, he was still met with the same uneasy feeling within himself over just how hard the other's body resented him in doing this. He wasn't too sure how to proceed further. Applying greater force would increase Eight's own deflection, and doing nothing more would just... do nothing.

The younger Agent was making all sorts of sounds, all of them being a lot louder than before. They were mostly different kinds of quickened breathing, but a kind of quiet cough was starting to form more rapidly.

Was he crying?

"I'm s-sorry, Ah-Agent Three. I'm so... weird..."

"No. No no. Don't you dare do that."

That tone made the octoling stiffen up a little. He knew it distinctly as Three's rare scolding voice.

"You're my best friend, Eight. The best I've ever had. And in what you had to go through this is completely understandable. Don't you fucking dare say that about yourself again. Ever."

Three still had both palms pressed against his friend. He wasn't sure if this was working, but feeling lesser resistance was prompting him to continue.

"It doesn't matter how long this takes. It doesn't matter if it never happens either. You will always be my best friend. That will never change."

Agent 8, extremely abnormally, wasn't actually listening to anything he was being told. The times he had ignored his equally best friend's voice didn't scale higher than a single digit, but he truly wasn't interested in hearing about Three's thoughts over him doubting himself. There was only one thing he was focused on overcoming here.

"I never want to hear you saying that again, okay? And I'm not kidding around. ...I don’t think you realise just how much you me-"

"JUST - p-pull me, Three."

...

"Just... do it."

"... ...Pull you?"

"Yes! Grab me... hard. Don't let me go. I - I want to enjoy touch... with you. I want to like it... with you. I want you to touch me close together. Stop - give in to me. Do it strong, now. Let us... do it. Stop worry. Please stop worry. I trust you, Three. Go and... hug me."

Agent 8's words were turning more funny than usual, a common noticeable side effect often found when he was battling strong internal emotions.

But Three still settled on complying.

Through a typically sparse feeling of what was undoubtedly heavy anxiousness, Agent 3 took a deep breath and leaned up himself, taking a firmer hold over Eight's back before pulling him downwards forcefully, squeezing him hard right after to lock him in place pressed atop of his own body.

The response was immediate. Violently Agent 8's body shook, his mouth emitting a whole range of differing kinds of whines and whimpers as he desperately tried to push himself past this mental obstacle and stop his body from continuously objecting physical affection by equating it to being trapped. His jerks of undesired protest were full wide, creating great difficulty for Three to hold him still and steady.

But Three kept going. He kept doing as Eight had instructed him. _He was counting on him._

There was a period of time where nothing seemed to improve. Two wet spots were increasing on Agent 3's clothing over his shoulder, Agent 8 wasn't appearing to calm down and if anything his breathing was becoming even further rocky. There was no pattern to how his body fought back, each move spontaneous and clearly being done without conscious control. The instinctual desire was evidently a very high priority to his subconscious, akin to the pure need of breathing in oxygen to survive.

Even still though. He continued to never voice 'stop'.

"You're doing great, Eight." Three whispered aloud, words of varying loudness due to his handling of Eight’s struggles. Talking had helped things before, hadn't it? "I'm so proud of you. I really want you to know that."

No positive results came forth immediately. But that fact didn't lead Agent 3 to quit.

"We must have passed 20 seconds now. You're so determined. So committed. ...I love it."

As he continued, slowly...

"I can't imagine how difficult this is for you. I'm so happy you trust me enough to let me try this with you."

Little by little...

"And you know... I've never done this lying down with anyone before either. Or been this close with someone."

Bit by bit...

"...I guess it's only you I trust enough to do this with, too."

Eight had calmed down.

His shaking had stopped now. Body completely free from so much as a twitch. His breathing was slower, figure more relaxed, and heartbeats no longer booming like mini rapid exploshers.

Agent 3 took notice of all of these changes, but ultimately decided on not talking more at this point in time. For this brief moment, he enjoyed the feeling of cuddling his best friend without the slightest indication of discomfort coming back from him.

It was even nicer than he'd thought. He never imagined he'd get this far.

This had really been in poor Agent 8's mind all along. After weeks of requesting it'd only taken a single minute for him to successfully squash that inner obstacle. It hadn't been a pretty sight, but he'd overcome it forever now. Hugging was now a permanent possibility between the two.

_But Eight always knew he had the strength and capability to go through and earn that possibility already._

**_He just never knew he could live with himself in making Three known on just how broken select parts within him truly were._ **

"Are you... alright, Eight?"

A reply came in the form of a small nod brushing against his shoulder.

"How do you... feel?"

Not believing a second nod would convey his message properly, Agent 8 finally gave back an audible reply.

"You're really... warm, Three."

It wasn't what was expected, but it definitely wasn't a bad sign.

"Yeah. You are, too."

Silence fell upon the bedroom with neither saying anything further. Slight concern was building within Agent 3 over just how hard he was still pressing Eight against himself, for he had not dared to change the amount of pressure over worry in possibly ruining what was happening.

"Would you like me to hug you more soft-"

"N-No. Please do not change."

Agent 8's wish was Agent 3's command.

Just before a second round of silence could begin Three picked up on a lengthy exhale from his friend, followed by slightly more weight falling atop him. Eight really was relaxing now. He was thinking about rolling them both to lie side-by-side while still embracing, but discarded that thought upon the feeling of small hands across his own two sides. Realizing what the other wanted, he leant forward ever so carefully before lying back down as before, a grip now on his own back gently pulling upwards.

"...Thank you, Three. For showing me touch... and everything."

"You're welcome, Eight. You're very welcome."

\- - - - -

A number of minutes went by without either of the two altering their embrace. It could never last forever though, as Agent 3 had finally reached his limit on the amount of pressure his arms had been constantly applying.

As his hold weakened Agent 8 immediately sprung into action. The change in force had reminded him where the placement of his own two hands were, in which he quickly made grip back much tighter, all while nuzzling his face further inwards until their cheeks were literally being pressed against each other.

"Please-"

"I'm not letting you go, Eight. Don't worry."

"...Okay."

The feel of Eight pressing against him directly by his own accord boosted Three's own confidence tenfold, and he began gently rubbing his back in an identical fashion to how the octoling was rubbing against his cheek. He could have sworn he felt vibrations of a low kind of purring in response.

"This is really nice, isn't it? I'm so glad you did this with me just now. Tell me though, Eight... what made you so determined today?"

Agent 8 had a very specific answer for that, and thankfully his heavily muffled words were just loud enough for Three to distinguish.

"You told me something different this time."

"I did?"

"Yes. You said, hug feels good for both, yes?"

"...Yeah?"

"...I want you feeling more happier, too."


End file.
